


Being Friends With Spider-Man is Easy

by Ordinarily



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Abduction, Aged-Up Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, Kidnapping, POV Third Person, Power Outage, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, School, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Villains, Weird Plot Shit, avengers internship, yes i did the trope sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ordinarily/pseuds/Ordinarily
Summary: You meet Peter in your classes. He's a nice enough kid, if way in over his head, but college is lonely and he becomes your closest friend.You meet Spider-Man on the roof of your dorm. He's elusive but you're persistent, and your friendship forms out of late-night conversations.Meanwhile, city-wide power outages become a cause for concern. Well, not for you. You've got other stuff to think about... Like what would warrant workers in a warehouse to abduct you from your own roof. It's rude, quite frankly.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader, Peter Parker/You, Peter Parker/f!Reader, peter parker/yn
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction with actual chapters, so I'm just going to take the time to apologize for the slow updates here :')

Life was hard.

Being friends with Spider-Man was easy.

The cell research lab had ended later than it was supposed to and she and her teammates still didn’t have accurate results. It’d been hours of holding tweezers painstakingly still and hunching stiffly over blurring microscopes. Her eyes were tired, her back was sore, and her legs were getting restless. She wanted _out_. But the whole team was really pulling their weight so she rolled up the sleeves of her lab coat and squeezed another drop of hydrochloric acid out of the pipette.

_Okay, cells… work with me here._

They didn’t.

By the time she left the building, the sun was setting. She climbed up the stairs to her dorm defeatedly, legs burning with every push. Stupid elevator had been broken for days now, courtesy of the last power outage. You’d figure with all the state of the art equipment at this school, they’d be able to fix a damn pulley system. 

Without even realizing it, she continued past her floor and up to the roof of the dormitory. Maybe the sequence of events had led her here, perfectly timed, because she walked in on the most breathtaking sunset. Had she been paying more attention, she would have noticed it through the windows in the stairwell because this, this was a panorama of color. The deepest pinks alongside the most incomparable oranges; shadows of purple and blue hidden behind sparse clouds, a sea of gold beneath it all. 

Y/N could cry.

She’d spent the day running from building to building on campus, throwing on her jacket, shrugging it off, sprinting to and from her locker. Textbooks were heavy and the campus was huge. Classes were long, teachers were meticulous, and the material was difficult. 

She could handle that.

It was when the little things started to pile up that her already precarious mental state began to crumble. It was bumping into people and stumbling over her feet, dropping her lunch and forgetting notebooks. It was as simple as a side look from a girl in the bathroom or a cold response from a professor—(that was it, she was never going to ask anything ever again).

But now the sky was painted in thick stripes of colour, smeared and smudged together, splattered in overlay. Clouds stretched apart and sewed each other together again, interwoven in pastels and shadows. 

And at the very extremity was red and blue and black all in the shape of a familiar silhouette. She didn’t see him hop his way over, so much that he was further away and now he was close. He perched on the ledge, staring at the panorama around them. 

“You don’t usually come up this early,” he said softly.

“Yeah, my breakdowns are usually later in the night.”

He blew air out his nose, still not looking at her. 

“And you?” she asked. “How’s everything?”

“Everything?”

Spider-Man was a little bit like a long-distance pen-pal. Except the pen-pal was very good at listening but never really told you anything about themselves in return. Come to think of it, Spider-Man was a little bit like a dog. Full of energy and barking at pigeons and never one to burden you with his own problems—except for, maybe, the odd complaint of hunger. 

“How about _a_ thing?”

“You know I can’t talk about it.”

“Not even _one_ thing? I just—I know like three things about you, total: You were bit by a spider, you’re smart as shit, and you can do a backflip. Why don’t _you_ have a mental breakdown every once in a while?”

“Crying inside the mask gets pretty uncomfortable,” he reasoned.

She had to smile. “You’re the worst.”

“Okay, how about this: A thing is actually pretty difficult for me right now.”

“Spider business?”

He scoffed. “I wish.”

“Oh,” she smiled. “So, love.”

“Your arm sore from reaching that far?”

She felt his eyes on her as she climbed up on the ledge and sat, legs dangling. Her feet were sore. “You catch this every night?”

He smiled beneath the mask. _And then I wait for you._ “Stars are pretty but nothing beats the colours.”

“I might have to agree.”

“So,” he started after a little while, “how was your day?”

Annnnd, there it was. This had become routine; a joke after he found out she disliked small talk. “It was _great_ , thank you for asking.”

“That bad, huh?”

The sun sank lower beneath the horizon. Orange turned to pink turned to purple. The clouds folded in on one other.

She smiled. “You?”

“About the same.”

She had half a mind to ask what he spent his days doing before remembering he wouldn’t tell her. “Lotta crime in New York?”

“Lotta crime everywhere. Can’t catch everyone…”

“You do your best.”

He turned to her, the right eye of his mask squinting. “So do you.”

“Now, how would our friendly, neighbourhood arachnid know that about little, ole me?”

Spider-Man had to laugh. “We’re friends aren’t we? Don’t friends check in on each other?”

She began to sputter. “Me? _I’m_ your friend? You check in on _me?_ ”

He nodded. 

“Okay, then, friend, how would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

It was his turn to sputter. “But, I—It’s just—I don’t—I can’t—“

She fought a chortle. “Dorm 302 around six?"

“I…” He scanned her. Hesitated. “Okay, Y/N.”

***

“Parker!” she called down the hall the next morning. “Sorry, there are, like, _thirty_ Peters at this school. I have the lab report for you.”

“Oh, hey, thank you. Sorry, I bailed yesterday. I have, like, _thirty_ other projects due.” 

She fell into step with him. “No, no, I get it. Actually, I don’t. How the hell are you managing a double-major, a minor, and an internship. We bow down to gods around here, you know?”

He laughed, bright and big. “I’ll let Thor know next time I see him.”

“That’s all I ask.”

A fleeting thought about him _actually_ being able to tell Thor crossed her mind. An internship at Avengers HQ: How did one get so lucky?

He opened his mouth to add another witty comment when she spoke again.

“Okay, I gotta run but I’ll see you later, right?”

Peter stiffened. “Uh?”

“We’ve got chem at three!” she called over her shoulder, heading in the opposite direction. 

“Oh! Yeah, right! See you!”

He should cancel tonight… It was a matter of time before Y/N got too close and then… and then what? He was supposed to throw her into the Aunt May, MJ, Ned protection program? Cut all ties with her so he wouldn’t ever have to worry? 

Meeting her was funny:

Finding her on the roof of her dorm building the first day of the semester, discovering the stars anew; seeing her waving from a distance—“Spider-Man! Hey!”

Forcing himself to leap his way over; make sure she wasn’t trying to get his attention for a reason other than stardom.

Meeting her the next day in Chemistry of Solutions 201; introducing himself as Peter Parker, resident Avengers _intern_ and most certainly not resident Avenger.

And then getting to know her differently and in every way; lying about himself over and over again—no, come on, Parker, they were half-truths. Half-truths were fine.

Partnering with her; meeting up in the library, for lunch, on the rooftops as someone else; walking her home at three in the morning after a bad date, where she cried and hugged herself as Spider-Man’s stomach dropped when he understood she wasn’t telling him everything. 

That had been months ago, and now they were here, at the end of second semester at MIT.

He’d grabbed lunch before with her as Peter, that was no problem. Dinner as Spidey felt different somehow. 

He should’ve known it wouldn’t be. This was Y/N.

***

He knocked at 6:01 PM, slipping on the mask right before she yanked open the door. 

And so the night began.

Y/N seemed to suppress her surprise, like she couldn’t believe he’d actually shown up, much less with shorts and a hoodie over the suit. A real comedian, that spider-boy.

“How do you feel about grilled cheese?” she asked, as he took in the small apartment.

“Are… are your roommates home?” he asked instead.

“Oh. I actually got kind of lucky. Scholarship paid for a single.”

“No way.”

She nodded sheepishly. “Hey, look ma, I made it.”

It was the standard campus furniture, little trinkets tucked away in corners and shelf units, a single plant by the living room window. He toed off his shoes in the entryway, next to the same sneakers he spotted every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday contrasting the stale linoleum floor of their classroom. 

“So, yeah, no allergies? Lactose intolerance? General dislike?”

“No, no. Grilled cheese is great, thank you.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s about as much as I can do right now.”

“Y/N. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

She fought a smile, eyes softening, and nodded shyly. “Cool.”

Being friends with Spider-Man really was easy.

——

"My aunt makes it just like this,” he said around a mouthful of melted cheese.

“I will take that as a compliment.”

She watched him eat, mask pulled up only as high as was strictly necessary. But now she had a feature to identify him with. Maybe two features. 

“You have curly hair,” she noted. 

Spider-Man reached behind him to tug at the back of the mask. “Goddammit, stop looking for clues.” 

“Curly, brown hair.”

“This was your ploy, huh? Make grilled cheese so good I forget to hide my identity.”

“You caught me.”

“Truly the work of a mastermind. I should storm out right now.” He took another bite and made no move to leave.

"You’ll miss dessert.”

“Dessert?!”

“I made chocolate chip cookies. They’re Pillsbury but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“Damn right. The Pillsbury dough man is my fifth father.”

“Fifth?”

“Don’t ask.”

It got quiet for a little after that and she could practically hear him smiling behind the mask. “So… nice weather we’re having.”

She groaned. 

He laughed.

And then it was quiet again.

Finally, she inhaled audibly and started. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything. Might not answer it though.”

“I’m just gonna shoot my shot, here. Is it… Are you… I know it’s been a while but are you okay? You know, after Iron Man… There were rumours about you being there when he… I just—I don’t know, I wanted to check in.”

Spider-Man stopped chewing. She watched him swallow harshly. “I…”

“You don’t have to answer.”

“No. It's okay. I—I’m better. It just—obviously, it still hurts, you know? Everything’s so weird now. With the team I mean… it feels kind of like being the understudy except you never learned the lines."

She nodded. “Black Widow was my favourite. I didn’t know her, obviously, but it still felt like loss. I don't know. Is that dumb?”

He shook his head, “Man, she was awesome,” and took another, smaller bite.

“And… now? What’s the world like?”

“I guess… not all that different. Still bad guys. Still a lot of good guys. A-and girls. People, a lot of bad and good people,” he added, clearing his throat and gesturing.

“What a save.”

“What about you? What’s the world like for you?”

“Too big for my tiny brain to handle.”

“Aw, come on, Y/N, you’re smart.”

“Sometimes.” Then, in a different voice, she added, “There’s this kid, Peter, in my class. He’s insane. I’ve never seen anyone pick up things as fast as he does.”

Peter’s heart stuttered in his chest. _Too close, this is too—_

“He’s got a lot on his plate, too. No idea how he does it.”

“Sounds like a nerd.”

“He is,” she laughed. “But also very cool.”

Spider-Man paused. Looked at her through his mask.

“S-sorry. I must sound…”

“Are you friends with him?” He was beginning to trek into dangerous territory, but once he started, he couldn’t stop.

“Yeah. I mean—I guess—I hope. We grab lunch sometimes. That’s a thing friends do, right?"

“Just friends?” What was he _doing_?! He wasn’t allowed to pry like that, much less about _himself_.

She flustered. “Wha—I… _Yes_ , just friends.” It was infuriating how expressive his mask was. "Look, even if it was something— _which_ it isn’t—there’s no way he has time for anything. Actually, he works with the Avengers… Oh, God. You might know him. _Wow_ , that’s embarrassing.” 

“There are a lot of Peters. Don’t worry about it.”

“Right?!”

“My point is...” _Watch what you’re saying, Parker_. “If this Peter guy is half as smart as you make him out to be… He’ll know good when he sees it.”

“Sounds like something a friend would say.”

Spider-Man leaned back in his chair. “Told you.”

“Thanks, Spidey.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you at Avengers HQ.”

She slammed her head against the table. “I knew it.”

He immediately felt bad. “I’m kidding, I swear!”

***

The stairs echoed metallic as they stomped up the fire escape. 

“Wait, so, you think _root beer_ is better than _orange soda_?!”

“At least I don’t think _relish_ is better than _mustard."_

“Does it matter? We agreed ketchup trumps all.”

By the time they got up to the roof, the sun had nearly set completely. There was a silver of orange across the horizon, a kind of turquoise above it if you squinted and, surrounding them, a deep, dark blue. 

They sat in silence for a little while, legs dangling over the edge, Pillsbury cookies in a small Tupperware between them. She only ever sat like this when he was around. If she was alone, she tended to stand behind the ledge, where she was safe. But with Spider-Man around, it felt like she was safe no matter what. That was a hard thing to admit, even if he was a superhero, because she never really felt safe around anyone. 

He bit into another cookie now as she gingerly ripped apart her own. His locks were peaking out from behind the mask again. 

“Do you ever wish you could take it back? Be a normal guy?” It was a question she’d had for a while but managed to avoid blurting until right now.

He stopped chewing. Then shook his head. “There’s no other feeling like helping people. I guess I could do that as—as not Spider-Man but… when everybody is screaming and running, being the guy they can look at and just _know_ they’re going to be okay. That’s… it’s a lot of pressure but… it makes you feel like you have a purpose in all this, you know?”

She tried to answer but her voice caught so she settled for nodding. 

That’s exactly how it felt. Looking at him and knowing you were okay. 

They talked for hours after that until eventually the stars peaked out and it was just him talking. Beneath the picnic blanket, the rooftop was hard against her back, but Spider-Man's voice felt like old flannel, warm and soft and wrapping her in its comfort. 

“And I think that one... is Orion?” The recent power outages in the city, though inconvenient, had given way to a bright sky. Usually, you wouldn’t be able to see half of what they could tonight. Light pollution and all that. 

He kept his arm pointed out, tilting towards her to adjust for her perspective. When she didn’t say anything he glanced over to find her face blank and eyes closed.

And he smiled.

He had half a mind to wake her up or carry her back but… he was feeling selfish tonight.

Maybe something about the stars. 

So he kept talking about astrophysics. Quietly and profoundly, like he truly did love this world. And what a world it was.


	2. Two

“Temperature?”

“Still at 108.”

“Is it compressing at all?”

Peter squinted through the lens. “Sorta, kinda, maybe.”

Y/N ran her fingers through her hair, tugging strands loose from her ponytail in the process, and glanced at the wall clock.

5:09.

Staying late for labs every week was starting to take its toll on her and she could tell her teammates were feeling about the same. The complaints became more frequent; the shattered test tubes and calculation errors, too.

She never ate this early and still, her stomach whined.

“How’s it going on your end, guys?” she called out to Dimitri and Clarissa, who were fumbling about with "the molecules’ exposition to colder temperatures" part of the lab.

The hesitation was not promising.

Just when Y/N was about to call it quits, offer a _let’s be done with this tonight_ , and just foot the failing grade, Peter piped up. 

“Oh my God. The stabilizing agent. The dosage is wrong.” He moved about, light on his feet, re-measuring the liquid and fishing for a new batch of cells. 

She stared.

Yes, it was often Peter carrying the team, and, although she should've probably been used to it by now, his qualities weren't any less admirable over time.

When he caught her eye the second time, she was sent into motion, recalibrating and resetting all the gear. Exhilaration bloomed through her chest. There was nothing like problem-solving with Peter Parker.

“Okay. Let’s try this one more time, shall we?”

\---

Outside the E Building, Peter bounced on the balls of his feet. Rain poured around him and dripped from the tiny awning over the doorway. It was nearly six o’clock and he could really use some food but Y/N was still inside, printing the last of the data sheets.

Dimitri, tall and athletic, and Clarissa, cute and petite, made an odd pair as they came walking out. 

He offered Dimitri a goodbye handshake and Clarissa a farewell hug, offering little ' _good work in there, today's,_ and ' _see you tomorrow'_ s before they headed out for the evening. 

Just as the two of them started off to the cafeteria, holding bags and books over their heads, Y/N appeared in the doorway, hugging her jacket closer to herself. She seemed surprised to find him there. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said.

“You waited for me?”

“Yeah. Wanna grab dinner?”

They ended up at a Chinese place off-campus. They’d walked in, dripping all over the carpets, and shivering in the warmth of the restaurant until one of the waitresses begrudgingly asked, “Table for two?”

They nodded sheepishly and followed as she led them to a cozy booth in a corner, where they could watch the rain from a small window without forfeiting privacy. Plates of egg rolls, spring rolls, orange chicken and pineapple chicken, bowls of fried rice and steamed broccoli covered their table.

They ate in comfortable silence, each too tired and too hungry to delve into larger conversation than, “This is so good,” and "Have you tried the red sauce?"

Halfway through, the restaurant plunged into darkness. The music cut out and the hum of heaters ceased altogether. The grey light from their window provided enough light that Peter caught Y/N’s surprised reaction.

“Again?" Rain sprayed harder against the glass for a brief moment. “What is this, like the fifth outage this week?"

Peter sucked on his lip. He’d been ignoring them, but there was only so much of a pattern he could sweep under the rug. He shot a text to Dr. Banner for good measure and tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Yeah, it’s starting to get a little weird."

He looked up to find her staring out the window. Following her gaze, he found the buildings around them also void of electricity. It was kind of eerie, especially with the rain. New York was never quiet except… now it was.

She met his eyes and smiled softly, barely. 

And time froze for a second because she’d never looked at him like that before. Not in labs or in class or at lunch. Not on rooftops in front of a sky full of cotton candy clouds or beneath darkness speckled with pin-needle iridescence. 

Surely, he would have noticed that smile.

***

In the following days, Spider-Man began to notice other things.

For instance, window washers.

Every evening, at the Billie’s warehouse on 42nd street, two men washed every window on the first and second floor. 

It had been such a quick thought. Fleeting. Insignificant. " _How dirty could that glass possibly get?"_

And then he spiralled. 

He began to remember them from the night before and the night before that until he couldn’t remember a night where he hadn’t seen them.

Then, it was the flickering streetlights. The intervals at which they went out and back on again, seemingly in patterns around the neighbourhood. 

After that: the news reports of the city-wide outages. Vague and uninformative, but doing a fair job at damage control. Nothing to worry about here, folks.

Last, was the text back from Dr. Banner. _Energy waves are elevated in NY. Gamma levels all over the place. Weather patterns are abnormal, too. I’m working on it._

“Something isn’t right,” he told her one night on the rooftop when he’d had enough. 

Clouds were dark and thick in the sky, and somehow also sparse. The world appeared to glow pink and cloak itself in grey simultaneously. He stared out at it, wondering just what he was missing.

“You mean the power failures, right?”

He nodded. And then he pointed. “See that?”

The building was a few streets away but impossible to miss considering its impressive height.

“Billie’s?”

“The window washers. See how they keep looking over their shoulders?”

“…You think it’s a stakeout?”

He nodded again, eyes searching for a way in. The rooftops were usually a safe bet but for some reason… he had a feeling they were expecting him.

“You’re not going to go by yourself, are you?”

“I won’t… _do_ anything… I just wanna see. Stay here, okay?”

“Spidey—wait!”

Soon, the clouds went navy and the sky turned to lime and turquoise and cyan.

And he still wasn’t back.

Y/N paced the rooftop of her dormitory nervously, preoccupied with thoughts of what ifs.

She didn’t know much about stealth or spying or the whole hero business in general but it just felt like it shouldn’t take this long.

Finally, a shadow appeared in the distance.

It flipped and leapt its way over until it was close and she could relax again. It appeared agile and unharmed and she waved, even smiled.

.

.

.

.

…Her smile fell.

She froze with her hand in the air.

That wasn’t Spider-Man.

And it was getting closer.

***

Peter clicked his pen in chemistry class, the seat next to him vacant.

He couldn’t concentrate on a single word: not from the teacher, not in the textbook, not on his phone.

It was one thing last night when he returned from Billie’s after accidentally triggering the perimeter alarm... and then setting off the clearance one. On purpose. He was surprised to find their roof vacant, but certainly not concerned about it.

He’d hightailed it out of Billie's as soon as he’d gotten a window—metaphorically _and_ literally—but the sky had changed and he hadn’t realized how long he’d been in there. The assumption was that she got tired of waiting or there’d been some more pressing matter to take care of but now… he wasn’t so sure. 

It was out of character for her to leave the roof without saying goodbye in the first place, but to skip class without so much as shooting him a text was just… off. At the very least, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave him hanging for the in-class lab today. They were nothing if not loyal science partners. 

He left class halfway through.

Peter was done ignoring his intuition.

He checked her apartment first; knocked politely and waited for a few minutes. When there was no answer, he went the long way round, climbed up the fire escape and slid open the window to her room. Sure, it was maybe a little creepy—and he wasn’t sure what he would do if did find her there, curled up on the couch or studying at her desk or taking a shower—but every part of him told him that place was empty. He was right.

He headed back to school to try the library. The lab room. The main hall. The caf. The picnic area on campus.

Nearby cafes. The Chinese place they stopped by. The mall. 

He called her phone, texted her, video-called.

He mentally kicked himself. He should’ve done this yesterday. He should’ve known something wasn’t right.

Finally, he marched his way up to her roof, praying and hoping and begging. 

Panic was beginning to settle. 

He wasn’t sure how he’d missed it last night, but he found her phone face up and cracked on the cement of the rooftop with all of his missed calls and messages, and those from others.

He forced himself not to take out his anger on the device. Peter stared at the lock screen’s wallpaper, instead. He didn’t recognize anyone else in the picture, but they were all in graduation caps and gowns, rosy-cheeked and grinning wide. He focused on her, his heart sinking.

***


End file.
